


A Tale Of Two Lovers

by WastelandSpectre (ClockworksApprentice)



Series: Stories of 2018 [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, mlm, sort of sugar daddy situation turned more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 19:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworksApprentice/pseuds/WastelandSpectre
Summary: A male elf Inquistor is quite intriqued by a dashing suitor who promises him riches, gifts, and anything he could ever desire. However, their relationship isn't one hundred percent romantic, but it is one hundred percent sexual in nature.NSFWPorn with PlotFinal Word Count: 4,000





	A Tale Of Two Lovers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what the others would have said. Cassandra would have reprimanded him harshly, while Josephine would be flustered but would have given it her best shot at being strict. Cullen would have been too embarrassed to have said anything. Varric would be glad to have something this interesting to add into his book. Perhaps Dorian and Iron Bull would have accepted his actions?

 

Mirthal smirked. It didn't truly matter in the end. They all knew that none of them could really control his actions as they were his actions alone. They also knew that his advice, while politically he did take well, didn't work for his personal affairs.  _ And this is a  _ _ very  _ _ personal affair.  _ He shivered with anticipation and continued his walk up the long dirt road to a large castle. He hoped it was the right address, that handsome strange was vague on exactly which castle. He licked his lips and silently hoped that if it were the wrong address, he wouldn't be met with too much force.

 

If this were the right one, however, he did hope that this Rivain fellow would invest some more money into the walk to the castle. He looked down and crinkled his nose at the dirt and grim starting to cover the soles of his shoes. He huffed and lifted the edges of his cape enough that it wouldn't drag on the ground as well.  _ I do so hope this will be worth it.  _ The whispered promises of riches and sex from the night of their encounter still rang in his ears, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

 

_ Perhaps I spoke too soon.  _ He eyed the castle carefully the closer he got. As the dirt drive ended, he was met with an elegant exterior – one that rivaled some of the best castles he had seen. And he had seen quite a lot during his travels. Gardens full of exotic, beautiful flowers surrounding the dark stone, some climbing up its walls with a grace he couldn't help but admire. The dirt beneath his feet turned into stone leading up to the castles doors. If not for the very building the Inquisition runs in, the architecture of the castle would have taken his breath away.  _ This will be… very interesting. _

 

He hesitated at the door for a moment, straightening out his clothing and being sure to gently wipe off all the dirt from his shoes on the edge of the steps. He smoothed out all the wrinkles and reached into a pocket to spray a small bit of perfume along his neck and torso. He stood straight and with did a series of short, delicate knocks. It took only a few minutes before the door opened, revealing just who he hoped that he would see.

 

Rivain was just as he remembered. Tall, long and lean with light hair that shined against the fading sunlight. His eyes sparkled with darker intentions that made Mirthal’s insides swirl in all the right ways - they spoke of the promises that he had made before. Mirthal's smile turned more…  _ devious. _ He was quite the specimen, enticing just as he was charming. Seeing Mirthal, Rivain's own smile grew as he bowed deeply, taking Mirthal's hand and giving a delicate kiss upon his knuckles. He felt his knees  _ almost _ tremble.  _ Point one for you, Sir Rivain.  _ He was careful not to show just how much the action affected him. It seemed to work; as Rivain stood, he seemed flustered to see a lack of reaction from Mirthal.

 

“ Please, do come in,” Rivain stood to the side and stretched out his arms to invite him inside, “It is a pleasure to see that you have accepted my invitation.”

 

Mirthal looked at him mischievously, through the corner of his eyes with a smirk, “It was hard not to come and see if all you had said before was merely just empty words, Sir Rivain.”

 

He took pleasure in the way Rivain's flush grew across his cheeks, despite how hard the good sir tried to hide it. He waited patiently for Rivain to show the way, yet the sir stood there blindly for a moment. He let out a delicate cough into his fist, raising an eyebrow in question.

 

“Oh, yes, my apologies.” Rivain snapped to attention, shuffling on his feet, and began to lead the way through the castle. Mirthal trailed behind him gracefully, unabashedly stealing long glances at the way Rivain’s trousers shaped out his rear. “As you can see, my castle is fairly large and extensive. I do love it dearly and as for anything I treasure, I take good care of it.”

 

There was a hidden tone in his words that made something within Mirthal stir, as if Rivain was trying to tell him something or steal his heart as well as his bed.  _ Sex I will do so gladly, Sir Rivain, if you are as charming in the bedroom as you are now. But romantically, I will not be swayed so easily.  _

 

Mirthal’s exposition turned more stoic as the tour continued, yet he couldn’t help but be intrigued. Sir Rivain was certainly not lying when he mentioned his castle being extensive. It was full of only the finest things - rugs, antiques, statues, paintings, etc. Any romantic intentions aside, if Rivain were true to his words about taking good care of him…. An excited spark ignited in his chest as his mind wandered to what Rivain could give him - jewels, rugs, masks, jewelry. It made him nearly giddy. 

 

When the tour ended, Mirthal stood stunned at the sight before him. Extravagant food stretched out on a large table, far too big for merely two people, with chandeliers that casted an almost romantic,  _ no _ \-  _ seductive -  _ light across the room. As Rivain gave a charming smile, pulling out a seat for him, Mirthal knew how the night would end. 

 

He took the offered seat and watched as Rivain took the one beside him. The close proximity of the intimate diner didn’t off-set him too much, being a clean, neat eater he was sure he wouldn’t make a fool of himself nor make an embarrassing mess. Rivain didn’t seem too bothered either, and Mirthal was careful not to admire the way that the light shined in his eyes too much. 

 

The closer look did allow him to get a much better look at his host - charm, wisdom,  _ experience,  _ seemed just glow off of him in ways. It was almost intimidating and it did make it harder and harder for Mirthal to upkeep his more neutral expression and stance. He choose to focus a bit more on the food, dining eloquently and politely. 

 

“The food is… rather delicious, Sir Rivain,” Mirthal spook softly and he did not imagine the way Rivain’s eyes danced to his lips. 

 

“As said, I take good care of everything, and  _ everyone _ , in my care.”

 

Mirthal’s eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and sexual curiosity, “And just how would you take care of me should I be in your care?”

 

The bold statement set him off briefly, but he recovered with a grace that only comes from past mistakes. He takes Mirthal’s hand and looks up at him through hooded eyes as he planted a delicate kiss upon his knuckles.

  
“For one as lovely as you are, Sir Mirthal…. I would give you anything you wished.”

 

He had to let a shudder of excitement roll off his shoulders at the praise. He sat a bit straighter, head a bit higher, eyes a bit  _ brighter.  _

 

“Anything at all, Sir Rivain?”

 

The kisses strayed from just his hand and instead, trailed up his arm slowly and tenderly. A soft sigh held just behind his lips. Rivain relished at seeing the reaction and continued. The kisses grew softer and each one sent tingles that went beneath his skin. The kisses trailed farther, toward more dangerous locations such as his shoulder, his collarbone, his neck….

 

“Why Sir Rivain, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

 

Mirthal’s voice was breathless and soft, just a mere whisper. Yet Rivain looked at him coyly, smirking at the mischief that danced in Mirthal’s eyes. Rivain knew that they both knew what each other’s intentions were that night. This was just… foreplay. Of sorts. _If this is how he wishes to play, than I shall gladly enter this game of his._

 

He withdrew briefly from Mirthal, yet still remained close enough to get a good whiff of the sweet smelling perfume that surrounded the elf. He idly traced circles along Mirthal’s chest with his fingertips, admiring the soft (and very expensive) fabric he had dawned. He wondered if it was Mirthal’s way of impressing him. It worked - in a way. Mirthal watched him closely with half-lidded eyes, but did nothing to stop any of his actions as his hand trailed lower down his body. In fact, Mirthal looked rather pleased, leaning back in his seat comfortably and arching his back into his touch. 

 

“I thought my intentions were rather clear, Sir Mirthal, but if you doubt me, then I shall make it very clear to you.”

 

Gracefully, and with dignity, Rivain took to his knees in front of Mirthal. He knew that in the privacy of his castle, that they should not be interrupted. Any spy that worked their way into his castle were bound to turn away rather quickly at the scene before them. Mirthal had closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh between his lips. Rivain swallowed thickly as he carefully worked his way around Mirthal’s intricate trousers to free a growing erection. 

 

_ Beautiful.  _ Rivain’s fingertips traced against his throbbing erection slowly, almost in awe of what was before him. He had seen many men, of all sorts and races, before, and to be honest, Mirthal was average in every way, yet it still took Rivain’s breath away that the beautiful man before him - a man so comfortable in his identity to go as far as wearing such heavy perfumes and gracing the more feminine side of himself - was allowing their relationship (perhaps ‘partnership’ would be the best term at this point) to progress this far.

 

“I am… quite honored, Sir Mirthal,” Rivain admitted, his voice releasing a breath that brushed against Mirthal’s cock that caused Mirthal to tense.

 

Mirthal’s hand hesitantly reached down, running his fingers over the back of Rivain’s head, silently urging him to go further. He took the hint quickly, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the head of his cock. Mirthal shook underneath him and he could feel the way that he throbbed desperately before him. His own cock was growing quite tremendously in his own trousers, bound by too much fabric to be comfortable. 

 

But he was not the focus right now. 

 

His lips spread and he slowly, carefully, slid Mirthal’s length into his mouth. He was careful of his teeth, but was sure to make use of his tongue - swirling it around the tip. Anything he could not fit into his mouth, he pumped with his hand. Mirthal mewled under the affection, writhing with soft moans that caused Rivain to speed up his ministrations.

 

Growing in confidence, and in need, Mirthal’s hand gently clasped the back of Rivain’s head and pushed him down further. His hands tangled into his hair and grasped it a tad too tightly. Rivain let out a moan that vibrated nicely around Mirthal’s cock. 

 

“Sir Rivain…”   
  


Mirthal’s voice was barely audible, mixing in with the groans and breathless gasps that kept escaping him. Rivain relished upon hearing it, pumping with more speed, and taking a little bit more of his length into his mouth with each thrust. Mirthal’s hips started to move in sync with him, desperate for release. Rivain could feel Mirthal growing closer to release, throbbing in his mouth. Slyly, his mouth slid off with a ‘pop’ and his hand turned slower before lightly scraping his nail against the underside of his cock. 

 

Mirthal melted, letting out a longer, louder gasp. His hips moved slightly, trying to find more friction as he felt torn between arousal and frustration of almost cumming only to be cut off. 

 

“You’re such a beautiful specimen, Sir Mirthal,” Rivain rose just enough to nibble at Mirthal’s ear. His hand grasped Mirthal’s cock a bit tightly, causing a rise out of the other man, before it turned soft. He continued to pump it at a steady, tedious pace. “You’re so soft… So…  _ delicious _ .”

 

He trailed a few kisses along Mirthal’s neck, daring to even do one or two along the corners of his lips, before he returned to his knees once more. Mirthal was turning into a mess beneath him as his release grew closer - but he was a graceful, beautiful,  _ enticing  _ mess, that still smelt of the sweetest perfumes. Even his cock was as well groomed as he was, and just as soft. It was…  _ interesting.  _

 

Rivain shamelessly moved his own hips in sync to the thrusts of Mirthal’s cock in his mouth. His own cock was growing frustration, throbbing for more friction and release. Release that he knew would  _ cum  _ whenever Mirthal’s release did. He took Mirthal’s cock all the way down to the base, careful not to gag on the length.

 

Mirthal let out the sweetest of sounds in one last, final moan as he let out his release into Rivain’s mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed and Rivain gladly, eagerly, swallowed each and every release as his own cock let it out into his trousers - he was thankful for the thick undergarments he wore beneath his trousers so such release wouldn’t show through. 

 

Rivain stood, tall and proud, with his shoulders back and head high as if his there wasn’t a bit of cum still on the corner of his mouth. He looked down proudly at what he done. Mirthal still sat in the chair, trying to regain his breath, with a light flush upon his cheeks and a twinkle in his eye. He managed to have enough sense about him to at least bring his trousers back up, tucking his now semi-lifeless cock (that was still a bit ‘high’ on the arousal and release that just occured) back into his undergarments as he went. He looked up at Rivain with interest and even more curiosity than before. 

 

“I do hope that will be to your pleasure, Sir Mirthal, and I will repay you handsomely with anything you desire.”   
  


Mirthal smirked and stood, dusting off his clothes and making sure they were in order, before he stepped closer to Rivain. The other man took in a deep breath, noting how there was merely a very faint stench of sex beneath those wonderful perfumes. Mirthal licked his thumb and lifted it to Rivain’s mouth, wiping away the remains of their deeds. He shameless sucked it off afterwards and this time, Rivain couldn’t hide the way his knees shook. 

 

“I am not some whore, Sir Rivain, merely a curious subject that is interested in what you have to offer, make no mistake of that…”

 

Mirthal gracefully strood past him, turning momentarily to send a sly smirk his way.

 

“But as Inquisitor, it would be rude for me not to accept any… anonymous gifts… sent my way. You do know where to find me.”

 

Rivain watched as Mirthal continued on his way out, only stopping him to ask one more question. 

 

“And what is it that the Inquisitor would like as a gift?”

 

Mirthal didn't even turn around as he answered. 

 

“I trust my admirers’ judgement.”

 

Rivain didn't stop him from leaving again. He stood and watched as his newfound lover gilded smoothly out the door with grace. Something told him that his interactions with this man would end up being fairly interesting - and as slim as the chance was, hopefully something more than sexual one day.

 

* * *

 

 

Josephine had sheepishly, and with a bit of confusion, presented Mirthal with a gift that was left for him the next day. It was a beautifully wrapped box, with ribbons delicately wrapped over each inch. He dismissed her quickly with a thank you before he unwrapped the present. 

 

There was a single note that read  _ from an admirer  _ in swirly, delicate yet beautiful writing that laid perfectly on top of a small box. His interest was even more piqued now and he eagerly opened the box to reveal a set of perfumes and lotions - each well over a good price. He smiled softly to himself and after testing the smell of each, carefully tucked them away into a drawer for future use while plans of visiting this admirer of his again ran through his head. 

 

* * *

 

 

They saw each other quite often, or rather as often as they could with one being a rather busy, and popular, Inquisitor. Still, Rivain took pleasure in each of their visits and grew more and more lonely between them, longing for his lover.    
  


His growing endearance toward the elf showed in the way he showered the elf with extravagant gifts - some outlandishly so. Each one Mirthal showed much appreciation for - appreciation that often came to the surface when they buried themselves beneath satin sheets or hid behind the lavish flowers and bushes of his garden away from prying eyes.

 

_ Perhaps that is the wrong term,  _ Rivain mused. After all, during their visits, it typically included Rivain only lavishing Mirthal more. Though Rivain admitted that that was really their arrangement. Mirthal owed him nothing, not even sex, but when Mirthal graced him with his body, he happily sent him gifts and expensive items in return. It was the way they worked. 

 

It wasn’t a relationship, not particularly, as there wasn’t really any romantic relations between them - for the most part. As their visits grew, as did the warmth in Rivain’s chest at the mere sight of Mirthal. Their conversation grew more natural, more in depth, more open… Was it truly so foolish for Rivain to hold onto a thread of hope that maybe there was something more at play here?

 

“Are you alright, darling,” Rivain whispered into Mirthal’s ear, bent over behind him, leaning into his back. His hand teased at Mirthal’s ass, a finger prodding just at the top of his hole. Mirthal writhed beneath him, panting heavily. 

 

“I am now that there’s a table back here.”

 

Rivain let out a deep, hardy chuckle at the mention of the table that he had tucked away neatly, close enough to the rose bush to be out of their way but close enough to the other table and chairs they used for their  _ activities _ to be within reach at a moment’s notice. After Mirthal’s many comments about the dirt and grim in the garden that tainted his delicate clothes, Rivain took it upon himself to find a fix to that solution. Hence the table that Mirthal’s clothes were neatly folded on top of. His shoes and socks were placed perfectly beside them. 

 

He, personally, didn’t really see the point when they both always went straight to the bath after  _ bonding  _ in the garden. He would be more than happy to lend some clothes to Mirthal. An image of Mirthal laying in bed, legs spread and up for him, with one of his long shirts on over his slight frame came to his mind. He hummed pleasantly, slipping his finger into Mirthal’s ass. 

 

Mirthal gasped and sent a sharp look over his shoulder,

 

“Careful, Sir Rivain.”

 

He had the decency to look sheepish, offering an apologetic smile. 

 

“Apologies, darling, I promise I’ll be slow and careful.”

 

As promised, he drew his finger out slowly before carefully pushing it back in. Mirthal writhed under the pressure, groaning as his back arched. Rivain’s other hand slid around him and gently grasped his cock, taunting him with slow strokes that matched the rhythm of his finger. 

 

“You do look so ravishing underneath me, my dear,” Rivain purred. 

 

Mirthal’s only response was another drawn out groan, his cock twitching in Rivain’s hand. He couldn’t even remember how long they’d been like this in the garden - with Rivain just lightly teasing him while whispering promises in his ears. It was both the best and worst feeling when his promises became a reality. Worst only because he knew he wasn’t going to last long. With Rivain he hardly ever does. 

 

Mirthal’s hands turned into tight fists, pushing more of his weight onto his elbows that rested on the top of the table. He can’t hold it back any longer. He can’t -

 

“Well,” Rivain pressed a light kiss against the back of his neck as his hands withdrew from his body, “It seems we have quite a bit of cleaning up to do.”

 

* * *

 

 

They retired to Rivain’s bedroom for the night, after a long, ravishing bathing session to wash away the grim of the garden. Mirthal was, once again, pleased with the smell of the bath salts and the sent of the candles that lit up the entire room. Their bath lacked its usual before-bed sexual acts, being too tired from their previous one. 

 

Yet, as they laid on the bed together, Rivain still tenderly, slowly, rubbed the nice smelling lotion across Mirthal’s body, taking his time to massage it in. He knew how much the softness of the lotion and the smell of the perfume-soaked satin sheets really appeased the elf. Mirthal himself looked almost close to sleep. Rivain paused, watching quietly for a moment. He looked so peaceful, so  _ comforting.  _ There was almost a beautiful glow around his fresh, soft skin and almost something magical in the way his chest moved with each breath. His very presence felt better to him than anything within his castle. 

 

He laid down beside Mirthal. If the elf was asleep, it would do him good to sleep as well. He hoped that this time, perhaps, the Inquisitor would stay longer. Maybe even enjoy some breakfast with him this time around. Perhaps they may even sleep in until the sun rose high into the sky. Maybe they could even sleep the entire day away - he knew that Mirthal deserved it, after his tiring work as Inquisitor. 

 

There was something different about lying in bed with Mirthal. It was… surreal. As if nothing could harm them, as if Mirthal wasn’t the Inquisitor and he wasn’t just the Inquisitor’s lover. There were no demons outside their walls, no political wars, no darkspawn to fight. There was just  _ them.  _ As if they were the only beings in the world that mattered or even existed. Something about it felt…  _ safe.  _ Almost…  _ loving. _

 

He stole a glance toward Mirthal and he reached out to lightly brush some stray hair out of his face. Mirthal moved a bit in his half-asleep daze, coming closer to Rivain’s side and curling against his chest with a  _ purr.  _

 

“Do you….” Rivain spoke up cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper. “...Do you ever think about us? About being more than just… whatever we currently are?”

 

Mirthal hummed against his chest, yet his eyes still did not open. He didn’t expect the elf to answer. He was likely asleep anyway, not even listening to anything else around him.

 

“ _ Perhaps.” _

 

Mirthal’s voice was even quieter than his own and slurred with sleep. Rivain sighed, running his hands through Mirthal’s hair. He wasn’t even sure what he was really expecting as an answer, as Mirthal had made his intentions clear time and time again. But  _ perhaps _ gave him hope that Mirthal wasn’t as set in stone as he liked to believe.  _ Perhaps  _ was a  _ maybe _ . It was the promise of a  _ someday.  _ And that was enough for him.

 

_ For now. _

  
  
  



End file.
